AMANDA FRASER
By 'Vigilant'
BM-reluc F^F real B-cd rubber
Usual disclaimers apply. This is purely adult fantasy and in no way an exhortation to action, other than wanking while you read it. That is allowed, indeed encouraged. Best wanked with a 3.0 version cock or later, set to 1100x200 or thereabouts - alternatively, a 5mm clit if you are not a PC user.
Please send feedback to vigilant2@hotmail.com
I am 18 now but still my weirdest and most intense sexual experience was the one I had when I was 14. My parents are pretty well-off and we were living in this expensive apartment block in London, just off the river. I suppose I was at what they call an 'awkward age'. Despite going to the right school, having two ski-ing holidays a year and a whole stack of neat hi-fi equipment in my bedroom, I was bored. Bored and ungrateful. I thought my parents were parasites on the backside of society. I used to stay out all night with my friends just to get them wound up. It was when I was also 14 that I started breaking into houses.
I was a slim build which helped, and some of my less 'affluent' friends from south of the river taught me what they knew. Naturally, I thought it would be funniest to burgle people my parents knew, so I started on the other apartments in our block. My first 'conquest' was the Wilsons upstairs. God, it felt fine to trash their poncy collection of so-called modern art! Then I did Mr and Mrs Battistuta downstairs. While I was looking for her jewellery, I came across her underwear drawer. Mrs B. is the archetypal 'trophy wife'. She is about 30 years younger than her husband, South American and a total honey. Well, she was obviously intent on giving Mr B. his heart attack as quick as she could, because she had some very slinky numbers in there! Stockings by the dozen, suspender belts, silk camisoles, French knickers, teddies, lacy stuff and even some rubber-wear. At that age, I was like a kid in a candy store. I just got hornier and hornier looking through it. So horny that I forgot all about the jewellery. I wondered if she had been wearing stockings on her fine shapely legs those times we had passed on the stairs, and whether the silk I was holding had caressed her soft breasts... Eventually it was time for me to get going, so I just wrapped one of her silk stockings around my erection and left empty-handed. Back in my room I whacked off with the stocking between my right hand and my dick until I spurted, and cum dribbled down over it.
This experience got me thinking about Miss Fraser three floors above. She lived on her own and was (as far as I knew) the pampered daughter of an old-money family - a 'Sloane Ranger' if ever there was one. She was a real looker though, and was playing at being a model two days a week for some fashion agency. She had the sweetest of cute faces, with dark sexy eyes that you'd do anything for, high cheekbones, and edible lips. Her face was framed by long silky black hair. She also had a huge pair of tits for such a slim girl - I could never see her without imaging myself sucking on them. I had to do her flat next. While I was waiting impatiently for a safe opportunity, I had the good luck to be in the lift with her one evening after school. She was looking hot as ever in a designer two-piece, with a very short skirt. I tried not to obviously stare at the point where her tight-clad thighs disappeared under the hem. Or at her full bust filling out the jacket. I asked her if she had plans for the weekend - like I was just making conversation. Bingo! She drawled that she was going to a few Mayfair clubs on Saturday because it was "Antonia's 21st ya' know."
'Brainless but gorgeous,' I thought, as I put my hand in my pocket to re-arrange my hard-on so it didn't stick out so damn obviously.
Well, Saturday evening eventually came round and I did my usual tricks. Once in, I headed straight for her bedroom and tipped out her drawers until I found the one containing her underwear. Silk slips, knickers, big lacy bras, yes! - stockings! Black hold-ups. I ran them slowly over my face, breathing in the smell of her. Then I spotted something else in the bottom of the drawer. It was black and shiny. A dildo! My heart rate went into overdrive. I pulled it out and found there were straps attached to the 'balls' end. I didn't get it at first. But turning it round and placing it over my own erection, I worked it out. The way the straps were made left no other options. The thought that Amanda Fraser fucked girls almost stopped me breathing. I lay down on her bed with the strap-on in my hands, put a pillow under my crotch and humped it until I had to stop or else make a mess in my trousers. 'Dirty bitch!' I thought. Then I had the inspiration of writing a note and leaving it behind for her. I found paper and pen, and wrote in capitals:
YOU ARE A DIRTY LITTLE LEZZIE SLUT AREN'T YOU? DO YOU LIKE TO GO ON TOP WHEN YOU FUCK GIRLS OR TAKE THEM FROM BEHIND? AND YOU FROM SUCH A GOOD FAMILY TOO... SIGNED - THE BURGLARS
I thought that was pretty cool and the thought of her reading it turned me on a lot. I left it on the floor so she could see it when she walked in, with the dildo underneath.
Then I started looking round at what else she had. I opened her built-in wardrobe and ran my hand over her pinstripe skirts. I stuck my hand up her short summer dresses, pretending her arse was where my fingers were. I suppose the discovery of the strap-on must have got me into a kinky frame of mind, because I took one of the dresses out and held it against myself in front of her mirror - pretending I was her, or one of her fucks. At that time I had my blond hair down to my shoulders - to annoy my parents of course - and the reflection staring back at me did look sort of feminine. Suddenly I had an impulse to do something extreme. I stripped of my clothes, and hunted around for a pair of black high heels. I squeezed them on and then slipped the dress over my head. I stuffed underwear down the front to give myself a bust, and went back to the full-length mirror. Hey! Not bad. My reflection was actually turning me on! I felt my cock through the cotton, as I looked at the 'girl's' arse in the mirror. Excitedly, I wondered how I would look in an evening dress, so I opened another wardrobe to look for one.
Instead I found myself looking at a sea of black rubber and latex. 'What the...!' I thought, and took one of the hangers out. It held a rubber mini-dress. A pair of rubber stockings were draped over the neckline, and a rubber hood hung from the hook. 'Jesus...'
The lights flicked on. I spun round to see Amanda leaning against the doorway, looking curiously at me. She was wearing a little strappy dress similar to the one I had on. She looked fantastic. I was frozen with embarrassment.
She walked coolly in, picked up my note and read it. She arched an eyebrow at me. "Nice dress," she said, "And you from such a good family..." Her voice seemed to have lost most of its upper-class drawl. It was just precise and mocking. I felt my cheeks redden. She stepped slowly over to me, noting the mess I had made of her room. "It's Rupert from downstairs isn't it?" she said, looking me in the face with those gorgeous deep, brown eyes. I was too choked to answer. She slowly smoothed my hair back over my ear, while her eyes looked past me to the open wardrobe. I was paralysed with shame. Switching her attention back to my face, she spoke bitingly, "I don't think I left the door unlocked! Now shall I have to tell your parents about all this? Breaking into my flat and wearing my dresses? That would be awfully embarrassing for you wouldn't it? Of course, it's no less than you deserve..." I could see anger flashing in her eyes. I had to stop her from doing that.
"Please... no," I croaked, before drying up.
I could feel her exhale slowly as she contemplated my fate. Then a hand flashed out, and I found myself doubled-up in a half-Nelson. She was pushing my right arm viciously up between my shoulder blades, and I cried out in pain. Heedless, she marched me across the room , through the lounge and into the hall. There, she opened a walk-in cupboard and pushed me in. Before I was shoved to the back wall I saw something like handcuffs dangling from the ceiling. She snapped them round my wrists so I was stuck bent over. Then she disappeared briefly. When she returned she stuffed a wadge of silky material into my mouth and then tied a gag around my head to keep it in place. "You can stay there until I think how to punish you," she said and locked the door, leaving me in darkness.
I hung there for hours. I was confused and scared but relieved too that she hadn't just shopped me to my folks. Still, who could say she wasn't going to later...? She was obviously not the simple 'Ya' I had taken her for. In fact she was far sexier like this.... I started wishing I really was a girl so she could use the strap-on on me. Like I say, it was all pretty confusing for a 14 year old. At last, I heard the bell ring, and people come into the flat past me. Then, maybe an hour later, the door was opened.
A girl about Amanda's age was standing there. She was pretty too and was wearing what was the weirdest outfit I had ever seen. Her dress was made of clinging transparent rubber so that I could clearly see her flattened breasts and nipples. Further down, near the hem, I could make out her shaven slit. Her legs were encased in similarly transparent rubber stockings and she wore clear plastic high heels on her feet. She was the first girl I had seen 'naked' (outside a porno mag) since I was about five.
"Hello, pretty boy," she said to me in a sloany type of voice. I guessed she was one of Amanda's friends. Then she uncuffed me and removed my gag. My jaw ached badly. She saw my new erection and touched it through my dress. Then she turned, bent over a little and placed one of my hands on the taught rubber covering her backside. "Like it? Well tough!" she laughed, "You couldn't afford me!" She fixed a collar and lead round my neck, and led me into the bathroom.
There she made me do a shit and clean myself up on the B-day. She took a bottle of Amanda's body lotion and worked it onto and into my arse. Her finger up me produced an instant erection. I seriously wondered if I was gay. Trying on dresses, and now this. More confusion! When I was done I was trembling in anticipation. I went to an all-boys public school and had certainly heard of buggery, even if I had never had any desire to practise it.
Finally, she led me into the lounge. It looked quite different. The silver-metallic curtains were drawn and the room was lit only by spotlights and the ultra-violet tube from a large fishtank. Repetitive techno was thumping on the stereo. The first thing I saw though was Amanda. She looked unbelievably lovely - more than model-perfect. She was fully made up, wearing jewellery, with a black plastic top and mini-skirt. She was sitting goddess-like at the far end of the room. As I came nearer, I saw that her 'chair' was in fact another girl, naked on all fours, with a seat strapped to her back. A dildo was sticking out of her arsehole in front of Amanda. Her cunt was pointing right at me and glistening slightly.
As she spoke, Amanda gently nudged the dildo absent-mindedly. "My, my, you do look good in that dress, Rupert. You might almost be taken for a girl -- if it wasn't for that bulge of course." She gestured at my stiffie. "I might let you keep the dress, you look so pretty in it." Then she asked me to turn round so she could get a good look at me. While I was doing so, she stood up and unzipped her skirt at the side. She was wearing no panties and was completely hairless. I could feel pre-cum sticking the front of the dress to my knob. I wondered if it was showing through. "I've thought of a punishment, you will be glad to know, that will give me a lot of pleasure. Whether you enjoy it or not is irrelevant of course. If you choose to accept it I shan't tell your parents what a 'naughty boy' you've been! Oh, and don't think of trying the same angle on me, beautiful. Who on earth would ever believe you? An adolescent with your reputation for honesty!" She laughed heartlessly at me.
"Now, darling Rupert, turn around and pick one." I turned around to see three young naked men by the door. All were muscular, well built guys, and had large erections. "Go on," prompted Amanda, "Choose which one will have the pleasure of fucking you!"
What a choice! I thought of saying no. But the private humiliation seemed preferable to the public humiliation in front of my parents. I could never live it down if Amanda told them I had been wearing dresses! I looked to see which one had the smallest cock. But he was quite ugly. I was angry at myself for caring. 'You're not supposed to enjoy getting fucked up the arse,' I thought. 'It doesn't bloody matter, you little queer!' But even so, when my shaking hand pointed at one, it was the one I found most arousing. He stepped forward.
"Good!" said Amanda, "Now face me and get on your hands and knees." The girl holding my lead dragged me down into the position; then she passed the lead to Amanda. Amanda began to frig herself as she nodded to the man behind me to start.
I felt his hands run the length of my body, feeling me through the material of the dress. His hands felt large and warm. He stroked my long blond hair. I felt like a wanton tart. 'Get on with it!' I thought. The sooner it was done the better. I looked up at Amanda's lovely hypocritical face. At least I would be looking at something sexy when he shoved inside me. Amanda looked back at me with dispassionate interest in her raven eyes. Then he flicked up my skirt.
He inserted a finger. Ah! And then another. My right hand snaked back to wank myself. Then his big head was pushing - stretching -- and finally my slut arsehole let him in. He stroked slowly in and out, in and out, getting deeper each time. My ring hurt with every movement. I bit my lip. God, it felt big! But as he worked deeper, his tip nudged something inside me, and it started to feel good. Every time he thrust he did it again and again. It felt very good! The pain around my hole receded into the background. Suddenly I badly wanted to come, but couldn't. I wanked myself crazily to maximise the pleasure. Oh yeah! Fuck! I clawed at my balls. My head dropped and I moaned involuntarily. Couldn't he go any faster? I no longer cared where I was, what I was doing or who was watching. Just so long as the feeling kept building.
Then he began to stroke more rapidly, with his hands firmly round my waist, and I, I am ashamed to say, pushed back eagerly against his big tool that was working so well inside me. I circled my hips to keep him hitting the spot. When I looked up again, there was Amanda on the carpet, right in front of me. She was leaning forward on her knees, and her top was unzipped so that her large breasts were swinging free against her arms. My lead was still clutched in her right hand. Her beautiful face was watching mine closely. Clearly aroused, her lip was curled as she got off on the mix of pain and pleasure on my face. Looking between her legs, I saw the girl in clear rubber lying on the floor, eating her out. Amanda was grinding herself in small circles into her face.
The sight was all I needed to knock me way over the edge. The man behind me groaned as my ring contracted around his shaft; and I sprayed shot after shot of white cum onto the expensive carpet. Amanda saw it and almost imperceptibly licked her lush red lips. I was amazed to find myself still just as horny afterwards, and two minutes later I spattered spunk onto the carpet again, though on a smaller scale.
Amanda stayed there, inches from my face until it was over. With my left hand holding me up and my right beating my meat, I could only look. Nor did she ever make a move to touch me. She just knelt there in front of me as her own orgasm contorted her pretty face and her lips mouthed silent obscenities.
Eventually, while cum splashed yet again from my overworked dick, he came deep within my folds, firing my insides. Exhausted, he withdrew from me easily, and his spunk slowly oozed out, down my balls, to join mine on the floor.
Postscript: Amanda, for her part, kept the bargain and never said a word against me to my parents. However, neither did she ever let me join in her sex games again, although I often asked when we were alone in the lift together. Now, 4 years on, she is married to a merchant banker and living a respectable life in a market town in the Home Counties. As she said, nobody would believe me if I told them - but at least I still have a little strappy dress to remind me it really did happen.
Please send feedback to vigilant2@hotmail.com